


Pondering

by Occasionalcoffeethereturn



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occasionalcoffeethereturn/pseuds/Occasionalcoffeethereturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Gillian may have been thinking about when she was pictured looking out of the window of the coffee shop...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



She pulled out the stool from the wooden counter and hopped up onto it, stretching her limbs out and crossing one slender leg over the other. She kept her sunglasses on, hair scraped back in a high ponytail, still full of Blanche's gentle waves from the night before. The barista brought her over a much needed coffee and a miniature jug of cold milk and she smiled in thanks. She poured in a little, watching as the white liquid blended with the dark to make swirls of caramel and stirred. Two colours mixing together to make one, to become whole. She huffed out a sigh at the analogy, resting her chin between her thumb and forefinger and gazed out the window.

The cafe was quiet and she'd chosen it deliberately for a place to think and watch the world go by. There hadn't been much space in her head for pondering at the moment, with lines and words belonging to Blanche filling all the cracks and crevices. But she did need to think. She owed him an answer.

It had been the night before he'd left for Glasgow and he'd arrived at her Brooklyn apartment, keys in mouth and two bags of sushi in his hands.

'Hey sweetheart,' he'd mumbled to her and she'd trotted out of her bedroom to see him

'You brought me dinner? You're amazing.'

He'd put the food and keys on the table and snuck two strong arms around her waist, his mouth attaching itself to her neck with slow, gentle kisses as he swayed her from side to side.

'Thank you. And I know. And yes early dinner.'

It was just past five and she'd have to leave relatively soon to begin her transformation before the show. She loved the play, she truly did but it was exhausting beyond belief. She swore she could feel the inside of her bones aching.

He'd grabbed two plates from the shelf for them and filled two glasses of water before opening the tightly fitting plastic lids on the containers and passing her chopsticks.

'You're going to have an amazing time on your tour.'

He'd shrugged, not really meeting her eyes. 'I guess so. My timing's kinda lousy though.'

'That I won't deny. But it's two weeks, that's all.'

She sunk a sushi piece in soy sauce, straddled it with chopsticks and brought it to her mouth, throwing her head back in appreciation as she chewed.

'My god that's good.'

'Mmhhmm,' he'd mumbled with his mouth full.

'Who's going to bring you dinner while I'm away?'

She smiled at him with kind eyes. 'I'm sure I'll survive.'

'You'll start that weird chicken salad kick again from your London run.'

'My god no! That was all I ate for two months I can't believe I didn't eat anything else!'

'I did try and say....'

'I know! I should have listened to you.'

The silence stretched between them as they continued their meal together, him quieter than he usually was and perhaps a little subdued.

'Can I come by later? After the show?'

She'd nodded, brow furrowed in confusion. She knew he had an early flight tomorrow and figured this would be their goodbye before he left. 'What time's your flight tomorrow?'

'Stupidly early but I figured if I brought my things here I could get a cab in the morning. If it's ok with you.'

She reached forward to cover his hand with hers, turning his palm up and drawing a heart shape over the creases. 'Sure.'

He speared a cucumber baton with the end of his chopstick, holding it up and looking impressed with himself before she had to look away giggling.

'You're such a dork.'

'I love you.'

'I know. I love you too.'

She rested her thumb in his palm, rubbing over the smooth skin at the bases of his fingers.

'This reminds me of Vancouver, us together like this.'

'It's... It's hard when it comes to an end.'

She laid her chopsticks on the side of her plate, head cocked to one side as she regarded him seriously. 'It's two weeks then we get another two whole weeks after you come back. What are you worrying about? What is it?'

'I'm really struggling Gillian. I'm struggling to be apart from you I.... I want...'

She shuffled her chair back quickly to join him at his side of the table, sitting on his knee sideways with her legs between his. He wrapped both arms around her to hold her steady and rubbed her back as she braced two hands against his chest.

'Tell me.'

'I want us to get married. I want us to be in one country. I can't do this anymore, the secrecy, the distance. I just can't baby I'm sorry.'

Her nails dug into his shirt, clinging onto him for support even though he was holding her. To say she hadn't been expecting him to say that would be a huge understatement. The silence stretched out ahead of them and she untangled herself from his lap, pushing herself up slowly and returning back to her seat opposite him.

'David...'

'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, not before you're due to go on stage.'

'What you said it's... It's a lot. All of it.'

'I know.'

He nodded, biting down on his thumb. She picked up another sushi roll and chewed on it carefully, pondering her next move.

'I need to get to the run through David I'll be late.'

'I know. I'm sorry, lousy timing.'

She snagged a few pieces of cucumber and disappeared into her bedroom to collect her things and brush her teeth, leaving him swirling patterns through his soy sauce with the end of a chopstick.

She walked quickly over to him, her expression deliberately neutral and unreadable, and kissed him on the mouth.

'You'll come by later?'

'Sure.'

He'd held onto her hands as she walked backwards away from him, clinging onto her fingertips before he let her go. 

She heard him bang his fist down hard on the table as she shut her apartment door.

She sipped at her coffee watching as the wind whispered against the green leaves outside.

As it turned out he didn't come back later that night. He'd sent her a text message saying that Brad and some of the guys from the band were staying at his place so he'd be staying to. She had a feeling he'd do that. She knew he'd be worrying that he'd said too much, said the wrong thing to her. That he'd overstepped an invisible line between them and that he shouldn't have told her how he was feeling. 

She'd gone to bed that night, stretching her legs across the cool expanse of empty mattress and rolled over onto his pillow. Something crackled beneath her hair and she felt her hands close around a small box and a piece of paper. She'd scrambled to turn on the bedside light to read a single line from him.

'Just think about it for me, please. D x'

Her fingers were shaking as she held the box in one hand. She knew there was a ring inside it. She contemplated not opening it at all but her curiosity got the better of her. A diamond flanked by two deep red smaller diamonds looked back up at her. She thought perhaps they were rubies, but realised they weren't quite a deep enough red. They were Sardonyx diamonds, one of two birthstones for August. She swiped at her face to clear away tears she'd not felt coming and snapped the lid of the box shut.

He certainly knew how to pull the rug from under her. They'd been in contact since, but now it was his turn to be cursed by a time difference. They mainly spoke in the mornings, him making it something of a mission to tell her a fact she didn't know about the cities he was visiting. She looked forward to hearing his voice every day. Of course they didn't speak about the Tuesday night before he left; he didn't ask what she was thinking and she didn't say. 

She forced herself back to the here and now, the steady noises of Brooklyn, the cars across the bridge, the twirls of helicopters in the sky. Did she want to get married again? What had he meant by them not living in different countries anymore? Who was going to make the move? Did he want a press statement released saying they were 'officially' together? She shuddered at the very thought. Everyone who was important to both of them knew they were in a relationship and she didn't care who else knew, she just assumed most people had worked it out. 

She hadn't thought he'd wanted to get married again, but she knew he saw it as the final step for them. She was flighty, she knew he knew that and he knew she had a tendency to either bolt or shut down if things weren't right. She hadn't bolted with him though. They'd been together for three years exclusively and lived together for three months last year. And it had worked. In fact she craved it more than she ever thought she would. Everything that had been missing from all her other relationships was there with David. She thought she'd resent having him around, thought he'd crowd her. But he didn't. He knew her well enough and knew when to leave her alone and give her space. He always returned her glasses to her bedside cabinet so they were there when she woke up in the morning. He brought her coffee in bed. He read lines with her to help her and stayed patient as she hurled scripts at his head, frustrated with herself. She'd never felt more wanted, more loved and more adored than she did by him. And she welcomed it in a way she'd never wanted before and never wanted to do with anyone else. 

Why would she not want that for the rest of her life? What was so wrong to her about giving herself completely to another person if that was what she wanted and if it would make them happy? What was she afraid of and why was she holding back?


	2. David Ponders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David takes a walk on the beach in Barcelona.

Sand sifted through his toes as he walked along the beach in Barcelona, frothy waves lapping at the shore. He took a picture and sent it to her, with the caption 'not quite California' and then foolishly realised it was about 3am in New York and he'd probably woken her up. He was cursing a lot of things recently, the time difference being one of them but mainly he was cursing himself.

The Tuesday before he'd left for Europe had been a particularly bad evening of self deprivation all the way home from Brooklyn back to the upper west side. 'I want us to get married.' He hadn't even asked her what she wanted, he'd just blurted out what he wanted in one great big long spiel. A vomited out proposal and a ring and a note left on her pillow. He hadn't ever had a plan of how he would propose, he just knew none of what he did was in that plan at all.

They'd not talked about it, but he hadn't expected anything different. At least they'd still been in contact every day and were talking, even if it wasn't for long. Her voice was always husky in the mornings while it recovered before it underwent it's southern transformation again and he loved to hear it. He knew she didn't talk to anyone the way she talked to him.

He'd bought the ring in Vancouver, it somehow seeming fitting that this would come full circle from where it began. He'd almost proposed before she left but worried she'd think he was doing it just for the sake of it, emotional at them being a continent apart again and that he couldn't possibly mean it.

Being with her scared him witless. He constantly lived in fear that he'd wake up one morning and she wouldn't be there. That she'd realise she was better off without him and better on her own. It maybe wasn't a fair reflection on her, but he couldn't help the dark thoughts as they entered his mind. 

He tried so hard to give her the space she needed, to do the little things he knew she appreciated. And he wanted to do them. He cared for her and he loved her and he hadn't ever felt what he felt for her for anyone else.

In some ways she was flighty, she giggled a lot and she was silly. Then there was the side of her that loved to be in control of every aspect of her life. She was a born perfectionist to the point of being obsessive and compulsive about things and she liked to know exactly what was going on and exactly what was around the corner. Maybe he should have given her a date for his proposal and he might have stood a better chance. 

She deserves extra ordinary and he worries that he's too ordinary. That what he wants from their life together is maybe too mundane for her. He wants the domesticity, he wants to not spend another day of his life waking up without her there next to him. He wants to spend every morning making her coffee and bringing it to her in bed. He wants to do the crossword with her, and read her interesting stories from the news. He wants all of the little things put together.

He wants to be her husband. It's old fashioned and some might say primitive, but he wants her to be have mail for the attention of Mrs Duchovny. He wants her to wear his ring and he wants a new tattoo on his hand for her. Maybe he'll get a circle the same as she has. He won't get rid of what he already has and she wouldn't want him to. It was a happy period in his life and now the bad times have past, he's reminded of the happier times. Now he wants to make more happy memories with her.

It's nearing midday and the sun is high above him in the sky, beating down a relentless European heat. He should get going for his book signing and moves up the beach, dusting the sand away with every step.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he sees a text message from her and smiles. It's early in New York and he hopes she can go back to sleep for a little longer. He doesn't think she sleeps enough but maybe she's just more of an efficient sleeper than he is. 

He slides his finger over the screen and squints down. She's sent him a picture of her left hand wearing his ring. He's dumbstruck for a second and blinks twice to clear the haze. It's still there, clear as day.

His phone buzzes again. 'I hope this was the answer you were waiting for. Come home soon.'


End file.
